Douglas smiles serenely. “Good. I’ll escort you to your vehicle.”

Caspar keeps his head down as he walks. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. These things just happen. There’s been a mix up and I’m afraid I promised your room to someone else who needs it more…”

“Oh.”

“I hope you understand.”

Silence swallows the hallway. Caspar darts his eyes to exit. It's only a few paces away. He tries not to let his heart pound. If Douglas truly is a vampire, he can hear it.

Douglas stops. “Son, I want to say, you’re a bright young man. You remind me of myself when I was your age.”

Caspar forces himself to stop too. “Really?”

“Yes. Look at me. This isn’t personal, Caspar.”

Caspar’s heartbeat speeds up. “I know. It’s okay. I’ll get out of your hair, I have enough money to get a motel.”

He begins to walk again. But Douglas stops him. A cold hand clamps down on Caspar’s shoulder.

“Don’t look so down. Hey, look up. Caspar. Hey.”

Caspar takes a deep breath.

Douglas’s voice comes out distorted and inhuman. “Look at me, son.”

Got you, bloodsucker, Caspar thinks.

He pulls the knife from his boot in a swift motion. Douglas hisses in rage as steel nicks him across the cheek. He swipes at Caspar, nails suddenly turned to blackened claws. Caspar jumps back, keeping his eyes squarely focused on the fanged snarl and not the vampire’s eyes.

“A hunter?” Douglas spits, “We haven’t had one of you in a long time. You’re out of your depth, child.”

“Where are my mother and uncle? What did you do to them?”

Douglas laughs. “Are they hunters as well? Ah, the lord always provides. A little family of morsels, just for us.”

“Speak up, asshole! Where are they!?”

“Your family isn’t here. You’re the first human we’ve had here in months.”

“There's nowhere else they could've gone!”

“Too bad, sounds like something got to them before we could.”

Caspar charges. Douglas hisses, dodging to the side. He’s faster, stronger, even with the form of an old man. However, Caspar figures the bloodsucker has grown complacent. He moves clumsily, stumbling as he avoids the bite of Caspar’s blade. 

Caspar lunges again, just as Douglas swipes with long claws, aiming at Caspar's face. Caspar sidesteps the attack, using the vampire’s misstep to plunge the knife into Douglas’s side. He roars with fury, blood gushing as Caspar drags the knife through viscera. The grievous wound does little to nothing to stop Douglas, though. Caspar gawks in dismay as he watches the wound heal rapidly around the glinting steel of the knife. 

Fuck, this bloodsucker has been eating good if his recuperative rate is that fast. 

Staring is a mistake, though. Before Caspar can look away, color is flashing behind his eyes as he’s thrown to the ground with a brutal swing. He fights unconsciousness as spots of darkness dance in his vision. 

He musters up just enough strength to stand, lifting the blade with shaking hands. He grunts as Douglas pins him to the wall, one hand around his neck. “You made this much harder than it had to be.”

Douglas grabs Caspar’s chin, putting their faces nose to nose. Caspar gasps as two yellow irises consume his sight. Shit! He needs to fight. He can’t let go now. He fills his mind with his mission. His mom. His uncle. His family. They needed him, he was the only one who could save them! They wouldn’t want him to die like this…right?

Fuck. Fuck! no…

Caspar gasps as he goes lax, eyes drooping as everything goes soft and fuzzy. 

He is lost.

Douglas chuckles, a sickly sound that echoes down the dark hall. He drops Caspar from his fierce grip, panting from exertion. “Good boy. Come along.”

Caspar hangs his head as his body follows obediently, ignoring the desperate pleas of his mind to fight. He can’t—his body is completely under Douglas’s hypnosis.

He watches his feet as they walk down the long corridors. He feels like he’s trudging through molasses. Nausea climbs up his throat as his consciousness goes fuzzy. Is he moving at all, or is he stuck in place?

“I meant it when I said I saw myself in you, Caspar.”

“Ugh…”

Douglas smiles. “It’s always nice to meet young people who have their heads screwed on right. Who understand the importance of family.”

“Mom…”

“Vampires aren’t naturally inclined to family. Did you know that? You must’ve if you thought you could take us on by yourself.”

“...”

“We’re inclined to violence and isolation. Lone predators, stalking our next meal. However, when our prey became more organized, we too realized we needed each other.”

They stop. Caspar looks up, head swimming. They’re at the double doors leading to the church. Is he about to die?

Douglas gives Caspar a solemn smile. “Take comfort in the fact that I did not lie. Your family was never here. I’m sure if they’re still alive, they will mourn you.” 

Caspar stares ahead blankly as the doors open. He’s greeted with the same congregation he came to know through the windshield of the RV. Except now, they’re all staring right at him, faces gaunt with impatience and barely restrained, animalistic hunger. 

The demon didn’t lie. None of them are human anymore.

Fear worms its way into the false calm shrouding Caspar’s mind, festering and bubbling sickeningly against his skull. It’s still not enough to break him free, however. He’s paraded to the stage as the vampires begin to sing quiet hymns. Caspar can only choke out a groan meant to be a scream.

Douglas raises his hands. The vampires all redirect their gaze to him. “Good evening.”

“Good evening,” they chant.

“I’d like to begin the service by asking you a question. My good people, what makes someone your kin?”

The vampires murmur amongst themselves. Douglas allows them a moment until, finally, he speaks again. “There is only one way to make a family. Through blood. Our lord God made it so that the strongest bonds, the bonds of your kin, are tied through blood. A child carries the blood of its mother and father. They carry their history in their veins. But vampires have no blood. We have no kin. Am I right?”

“No!” several impassioned voices shout.

Douglas grins. “Correct. Though no blood of our own runs through our veins, we can become one by drinking the blood of Christ. One blood, one family, one God.”

“One blood. One family. One God,” They chant, voices bouncing off the high arched walls. Caspar feels the reverb in his chest. 

“Mom, Duncan,” he grunts.

“Tonight’s sacrament will be an especially joyous one. All shall feed on the blood of Christ, but only one lucky soul will be given the honor of partaking in drinking from one of his lambs.”

Caspar’s mind is spinning. He doesn’t want to be awake for this. Would it be better to give in to the trance fully?

Douglas continues to speak. “Who amongst you loves God!? Who amongst you wishes to feel his light as he sacrifices his child for your undying life!?”

The chapel breaks into a chaotic mess of prayer, begging, and hissing. Even in the thrall of Douglas’s control, Caspar recoils in disgust at their fervor. Fear making him quake. He takes a calming breath in. It feels like taking a lungful of water. He’s suffocating. He’s going to die, isn’t he?

If he could, Caspar would laugh. At least he died trying to save his family. Too bad they won’t care. They'll speak spitefully of his death, of his weakness, but he can’t help but feel a wave of peace wash over him. At least it will be over, finally. 

Caspar’s breath shudders. Red flashes in his gaze—

His eyes focus. At the front of the church, where the stained glass projects in a kaleidoscope of magentas, yellows, and oranges, is the demon. She meets his eyes, grinning. Behind her, dark shapes flutter.

 The shadow of six ragged wings of descending sizes spread wide as she whispers. “Be not afraid.”

Caspar shouldn’t be able to hear her over the shrill voices of the vampires, but he does. His whole body shakes as the air seems to tremble with the command. 

He looks up, fighting his hypnosis. His heart shivers with awe as the wings stretch even wider. He can’t help but memorize every feather. They’re quite avian, complete with primaries, secondaries, and coverts. There’s even a little alula on the edge of at the bend of each wing.

The vampires seem just as awed. Silence swallows the congregation. For the first time since Caspar has entered the room, they tear their putrid yellow eyes away from his throat. Caspar looks at Douglas. He’s gone pale.

The demon speaks. “Be not afraid. The Lord thy God is with thee. She sees your strife, your struggle, the admirable bonds of family you have forged. She sees you, children.”

The vampires gawk. Some look blank, some confused, but most are filled with unsettling glee. Their mouths stretch wide in terrifying grins, showcasing rows of pearly white fangs. 

None of them seem fearful like Douglas.

The demon speaks again. “Father, you have faithfully served your family. You have provided the life-sustaining blood the lord has offered, and led your flock toward the light. Today, you and your congregation will be rewarded for your faith.”

“Do not! Do not listen to her!” Douglas screeches, hands gripping the pulpit, “I command you foul creature! Be gone! Be gone! Leave—”

“I ask of you one task, children. Bring forth only your most faithful, most devoted, to sup from the divine blood of a Seraph!” 

Silence swallows the chapel. Caspar blinks, beginning to wiggle his fingers and toes. Douglas’s focus must be waning.

Suddenly, a blonde woman stands from the pews, eyes wide. “Oh, oh, holy one! I have been here since the start! I was one of the first to join—”

“Fucking bitch!” A man across the aisle stands, fangs bared. “Don’t act like you deserve anything after what you did, whore!”

“I repented! My sins are forgiven!”

Another man with dark hair bolts to his feet. “I have been the last to receive blood every mass! Angel, I am deserving!”

The blonde hisses. “Don’t pretend you are some martyr, you go last because you’re a glutton!”

“Lies! She lies! Don’t listen to her!”

The congregation breaks out into angry debate, not a single vampire spared as they begin to hiss and growl, feral yellow eyes darting about wildly. 

Douglas raises his voice, attempting vainly to speak over the sound. “Stop! Stop your petty arguments!It’s trying to turn you against me! Above—above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love—love covers a multitude of sins. Show hospitality—”

“Are none of you worthy?” the demon interrupts. 

Like a spell is cast, violence breaks out amongst the pews. 

Caspar stares with shock as the vampires fall prey to their base desires. They attack and claw with animalistic fervor, aiming for throats and soft spots. The first blood is shed, filling the air with a metallic scent, as the blonde vampire's throat is viciously torn out by a swipe of claws. Her attacker isn’t content with just watching her bleed out, though. He pins her to the ground, burying his face in the gore.

Several others take note, beginning a cannibalistic frenzy. Douglas gasps as a blood-covered patron jumps onto the stage, heading straight for Caspar. He flinches, waiting for the piercing bite of fangs on his jugular.

The vampire chokes as suddenly, the demon manifests right behind him, sending a fist straight through his chest cavity. 

He falls to his knees, toppling over face first into a puddle of his own blood. The demon watches dispassionately, watching the syrupy blood drip off her fingers. She licks her palm, smirking as she stares at Caspar. He jolts as the spell keeping him frozen is broken. 

Moving fast, he lunges for the dagger still in Douglas’s grip. The pastor is still too fast though. He dodges, yellow eyes blazing. “What have you done, miserable wretch?! She’ll kill us all!”

“Don’t worry, she won’t kill you. I will,” Caspar growls.

Douglas laughs madly, clawed hands cradling his weathered face. “You fool, you poor fool. You caught her attention, you’ll never know peace now. Your only chance now is to lay your life down and die!”

Black claws aim for Caspar’s face, missing as he darts to the side. Retaliation comes in the form of a punch, knocking Douglas back. The dagger slips from his grip, falling to the floor with clatter. 

Got you now, fucker! Caspar crows internally.

He ducks down, swiping the knife. The silver blade sinks into Douglas’s stomach as Caspar bolts forward. It slips out, rearing back to stab through the heart, but Douglas’s reflexes are still too fast, even as dark black blood pours from his wound. Caspar’s wrist is caught in a tight grasp, twisted until he’s forcefully pinned to the ground.

“Bastard—”

Douglas lowers his mouth. Caspar flinches, hairs raising as spittle hits his nape and haggard breath ghosts his skin.

“Your blood will flow and sustain my flock, hunter! Make your peace, now.” 

“Look around you, bloodsucker! Your ‘flock’ is gone!” 

Douglas looks up. His eyes dart around the room, searching for a survivor. They’re dead, the chapel filled only with the sounds of Caspar’s struggle now. Douglas stands, throwing Caspar to the side. He grunts as he hits a pew hard, his vision going fuzzy as Douglas walks the aisle.

His boots make wet sounds, stepping through gore and viscera. “Christian? Jessie? Katarina? Anyone?”

The demon approaches, smiling sweetly. “Rejoice, they’re with God now, Father.”